


Sour Grapes

by pinksnowboots



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Developing Relationship, M/M, Shinon has a whole lot of problems, Two Shot, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, and Gatrie is the prettiest one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:19:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9458879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinksnowboots/pseuds/pinksnowboots
Summary: Shinon was not in the business of wanting things, not publicly and not privately. So when he found something-well, someone-that he wanted so dramatically, so violently that even alcohol could not completely crush that want, he was terrified.Even more terrifying was the fact that if he could overcome years of coping mechanisms and denial, if he could just admit what he wanted and reach out to take it, then it seemed like he could possibly actually get it.But then again, to the fox the infamous grapes that were very probably not at all sour had seemed pretty close to the ground too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shinon is such an interesting character to me. He's a total asshole, but he's not irredeemable, and I'd like to think there's at least some reason for why he is the way he is. 
> 
> Anyway, I love the Greil Mercenaries and the Tellius games and I hope that y'all do too. 
> 
> This is going to be a two-shot. I wanted it to be a oneshot, but as always, I got carried away and wrote too much to finish it all in one go.

When Shinon was a child he’d developed a habit of only wanting things in secret, and even then only rarely.

Wanting things made him feel wrenched open and vulnerable, like he was choosing to let his guard down, baring his stomach to someone's knife. Wanting things hurt, and not getting them hurt even more. If he admitted that he wanted something and did not get it, then the hurt became public and turned to its more insidious and prying cousins, pity and disappointment.

Getting the things that he wanted happened so rarely that it was not even a part of the picture.

Shinon's father was a bowyer and his mother was the girl he had accidentally gotten pregnant and married before ever getting to know her. Their marriage worked out better than many marriages that started that way, but only because they'd come up with a clever little system of barely talking to each other and studiously pretending that his father wasn't sleeping with the milkmaid and drinking more than their meager income could support.

As a child, Shinon enjoyed a brief period of innocence where he didn't know that his parents did not, in fact, love each other, and he spent it toddling about his father's workroom, fascinated by the bows in various states of creation strewn all over the place. This was before he learned to scorn his father, and he resolved that he would follow in his father's footsteps and become a bowyer too. He told his father as much, and his father patted him on the head and laughed and said, maybe someday. Perhaps because his father was not satisfied in his own life, he did not want the same life for his son. Shinon had long since stopped thinking about his parents' motivations or mitigating circumstances, only remembering that his father taught him how to shoot a bow but not to make one.

After revealing his desire to his father, Shinon worked in secret, stealing materials from his father's workshop when his father was off ostensibly buying milk, spending long hours collecting branches from the woods behind their house and trying to imitate his father's movements that somehow turned plain wood into beautiful weapons.

Most people acknowledge that making anything for the first time is hard, and the first attempt is never going to be all that good. Shinon's first attempt at a bow was crooked and crude and barely worked as a bow, but Shinon had managed to hit a tree with it-it was a big tree and he'd been standing very close, but the important thing was that he had hit it at all-and he was very proud of it. He took the bow into his father's workroom and thrust it into his father's hands, proudly proclaiming, "Look daddy, I made a bow, just like you!"

His father may or may not have been drunk at the time; Shinon was too young at the time to notice and when he looked back on it, too old to care. Drunk or not, he stared at the bow in his hands like his mother stared at dead mice that the neighbor's cat brought to their doorstep and laughed.

"What do you think you're going to hit with this tortured tree branch? Ancient rabbits and field mice that the cats have already half killed? Son, you're pretty handy at shooting a bow, but maybe you should leave making them to the professionals."

He'd handed the bow back to Shinon and was about to say something else, but Shinon ran out of the workroom and into the woods, snapped the bow over his knee until it broke in two and his knee was bruised, and cried. That was when he first learned that sharing your hopes and desires leads to pain, and with no counterexamples to prove him wrong, he took it to heard and worked very hard to have as few hopes and desires as possible, and not to share the things that he did want.

 

* * *

 

 

When Shinon was young, his mother had told him the story of a fox who had seen a bunch of grapes hanging from a tree. They looked delicious, and he spent hours jumping to try to grab them, but they were always just out of reach. Eventually, neck strained and legs tired, the fox had given up and walked away, telling himself that the grapes were probably sour and he wouldn't have wanted them anyway.

The moral of the story was apparently that the fox was detestable for casting judgement on something simply because he could not have it, but Shinon took a different lesson from it. If you cannot get the things you want, no matter how hard you try, then you may as well assume that those things weren't something you really would have wanted to begin with. Even better, you may as well figure that out before putting in the effort, and not want anything in the first place at all.

Like the fox, Shinon did not get many things that he wanted, not as a child and not after that. This taught him not to deal with disappointment or to want more reasonable things, but to want less, and only furtively, the desire struggling to survive under a thick cloak of denial and affected indifference. Every time that he found himself, despite his best efforts, truly wanting something and not getting it, he only felt justified in squelching out that flicker of unabashed desire further.

Like the fox, people around him scorned him, called him bratty and ungracious, never realizing that his thorny nature was only a reflection of how disappointment felt to him.

 

* * *

 

By the time he left home, left his parents' sad little house and even sadder little marriage behind, he had almost completely trained himself out of the habit of wanting things, or at the very least the habit of admitting it to anyone, himself most of all. He made a living as a mercenary, which didn't make him happy or give him a home, but it gave him an alcohol problem and money enough to fuel it, and that seemed about as close as he was going to get.

The drinking habit wouldn't usually be considered a perk of the job, but considering he met most of the people who hired him in bars, it seemed to work out well enough. If it weren't for his drinking problem, he would never have met Greil, or have been hired to join the Greil Mercenaries. Greil had seen him fighting off bandits with several other mercenaries one afternoon, and then later run into him at the local tavern, and had offered him a permanent position in his group. Shinon was never entirely sure whether Greil's offer was based on his admiration of Shinon's fighting skills or a misguided sense of pity, but he'd learned not to question good fortune and a steady income.

Eventually, he stopped caring why Greil had chosen to hire him, because even he had to admit that it was the best thing that had happened to him since he first picked up a bow. The Greil Mercenaries were well-respected, upstanding, incredibly talented, and close-knit. Of course, most of the members other than Greil vaguely disliked or outright hated Shinon because he was arrogant and abrasive, and seeing happy families only made it worse. Only Greil seemed to realize or care that Shinon's personality was something that he had learned along the way rather than something he was born with, and that alone made it worth staying.

It was Greil who had first properly taught Shinon how to make a bow. Greil didn't practice archery himself, but he found it relaxing to do something with his hands, and he said that an old friend had taught him. When Shinon asked further about where he learned it, Greil changed the subject, wearing the same slightly pained smile that came up whenever anyone referenced his past or his wife, who Shinon assumed was dead. Shinon doesn't pry, because he understands the feeling of not wanting to talk about his past, even though his own past is more of the mundane unpleasant variety that too many poor Crimeans live for them to truly be considered tragic.

So Shinon doesn't ask and Greil doesn't tell, but he teaches Shinon enough that he starts making bows again. Eventually, his bows surpass Greil's, because as an archer he better understands what truly makes a good bow. Rather than being upset, Greil is quietly proud, and Shinon tries his best not to think of his father, who is probably dead by now of alcohol poisoning or his wife slipping arsenic in his soup, and if not, is living a life so quietly meaningless that he may as well be dead.

Maybe Shinon isn't happy, per se. Most of the mercenaries still hate him, and he still is very good at not wanting things, but he's approaching something dangerously close to content.

Then one day they pick up a small-town knight with golden blonde hair and broad shoulders who looks like he stepped out of a storybook rather than a backwater border town and Shinon is struck by want so suddenly and so hard that it causes him physical pain.

He's always known that he's found men more attractive than women, has fucked men that he met in bars and had quite a few awkward dreams about Greil and even one about Rhys, but he's never felt anything quite so strong, or so immediate as he does for this man.

The man introduces himself as Gatrie, and Shinon, still reeling from the flood of want that he hasn't let himself feel for so many years, rudely asks, "What kind of name is that?"

Titania glares at him and Oscar smiles tensely like he's bracing himself for a punch, but the knight-Gatrie-laughs, utterly unoffended and says, "Well, what's your name?"

"Shinon." He grits out, feeling the situation spiral out of familiar territory and out of control.

"Well Shinon," Gatrie grabs his hand to shake it and grins, looking Shinon directly in the eyes. "Even though your name is pretty strange too, it's still nice to meet you."

Gatrie is not good at comeback, Shinon learns. He's too good-natured, and being cutting is simply beyond him. It's also unnecessary, since the pure goodwill that he exudes shames even Shinon, who makes a point of being shameless because being concerned about how others perceive you is just inconvenient.

Before Shinon can think of a reply, Gatrie drops his hand and sweeps over to Titania, introducing himself with a flourish and kissing her hand. Usually, Titania would be rolling her eyes, but even she seems to be taken with Gatrie's utter lack of guile. Shinon glares-at Titania, at Gatrie, at Greil, at anyone-and slinks off.

It's fine, he thinks. It'll only take a few days for Gatrie to dislike him enough to leave him alone, he'll jerk off a few times thinking about those hands, and that'll be the end of it.

 

* * *

 

It's not the end of it.

Against all odds, Gatrie decides that he likes Shinon. Well, Gatrie likes everyone, but for reasons that confound everyone, Shinon most of all, he likes Shinon the best.

Shinon snaps at him and Gatrie apologizes. Shinon calls Gatrie a country beefsteak in his father's armor and Gatrie takes it as a compliment. Shinon drunkenly spills wine on Gatrie's favorite shirt and Gatrie helps him to bed.

Eventually Shinon gives up and accepts that Gatrie has somehow become his closest, and perhaps only, friend.

Sometimes Shinon wonders why he didn't fight Gatrie's intrusion into his life all that much. He certainly rebuffed Oscar and Rhy's attempts at friendship quickly and definitively, and planned to do the same to Gatrie, but Gatrie seems to have a way of throwing things off. It's Gatrie, Shinon thinks, and tries to be satisfied with that explanation, tries to ignore the want that now lies curled up somewhere below his stomach, ever-present and only responsive to Gatrie's presence.

Having a friend isn't actually all that bad. On the battlefield, they're close to unstoppable. Gatrie charges forward to startle their enemies, protected by his heavy armor, and Shinon takes out enemies left and right from behind.

"Thunder and lightning strike again!" Gatrie thumps him on the back in congratulations after another successful job, and it's a testament to how much Shinon must like him that he doesn't make fun of the name.

Off the battlefield they still work, somehow. Gatrie comes out drinking with him, and Shinon realizes that he didn't particularly like drinking alone, it's just that no one else was willing to drink with him. Drunk Shinon is _mean_ , even meaner than sober Shinon, but Gatrie likes him anyway, drunk or sober.

Drinking with Gatrie is fun, but going to taverns with Gatrie isn't always. Gatrie has a reputation as a flirt, and Shinon hates it. Drunk Shinon hates it even more. The taverns are full of ladies who are moderately attractive and incredibly available, and they're always fawning over Gatrie, even though Gatrie's flirting is actually painful to witness. There's something about being incredibly muscular and so kind and trusting that people think you're simple that the ladies just can't resist.

Unfortunately, the ladies aren't always just in it for his body. Gatrie has lose his money, his wallet, several hats, a shirt, and on one occasion, one of Titania's axes to conniving women who correctly identify him as an easy target.

Shinon hates those women for taking advantage of Gatrie, even though he has to admit that in their position, he might be tempted to do the same thing. But what he hates even more than the women who scam Gatrie are the women who don't. The ones who do just want him for his body, or even worse, the ones who like everything about him and want to get to know him better in more than just a sexual sense. Shinon's good at reading body language, and he can always tell which ones they are even if Gatrie can't.

At this point, Shinon's got an algorithm worked out. If the girl is obviously scamming Gatrie and he's not too drunk to care, he'll watch them and wait until it stops being funny, then put an end to it. Sometimes he catches the girl alone while Gatrie's going to buy her another drink, or fetch his wallet, or go find his mother's wedding ring or whatever it is that they're demanding of him and lets her know in no uncertain terms that Gatrie is not a fair target. It's gratifying to watch their eyes narrow, to see their anger at being thwarted, and if Shinon's not in a melancholy mood, sometimes he enjoys it.

Other times he just stumbles over in between them and falls on Gatrie, sloshing his drink and pretending to be much drunker than he actually is. If he's drunk enough to be slightly reckless, he might find his hands twisting in Gatrie's shirt as Gatrie half-carries him back to the fort. This method is gratifying because he can pretend that Gatrie is choosing him over the women, even though he's sure that Gatrie would do the same for any member of the Greil Mercenaries. Hell, he'd probably do it for any stranger that he met earlier that day, because Gatrie is just too damn good of a person.

Once, when a girl was not only trying to take Gatrie's money but also angling for him to marry her and take her away from her small hometown, Shinon started a barfight. Gatrie had jumped in as soon as he'd seen that Shinon was in the middle of it, and that was the end of any talk of marriage for that night. Shinon had rarely seen Gatrie fight without his armor on, and with the way that want punched him in the chest (or maybe it was the man he'd thrown a chair at earlier), it was probably good that it was rare.

"I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I?" Gatrie says fondly as they limp back to camp, Shinon leaning on him a little too heavily even though his legs are barely bruised.

"I could say the same for you." Shinon retorts, trying not to think about how good Gatrie looks with a scratch on his cheek and smelling of blood and alcohol. "I look away for a minute and you'd almost gotten married."

Gatrie looks embarrassed. "Well, she said that her father beats her and the only way she could leave was if she married someone who could take her away."

"That's the third time you've heard that line this month, Gatrie." Shinon chides.

"Well," Gatrie says, pulling Shinon slightly closer to his side in what Shinon is sure Gatrie means in a purely fraternal way. "It's a good thing I have you around then, isn't it?"

It’s worse when the girls want Gatrie’s body rather than his money, and it’s the worst when they just want him. Shinon may be petty and sometimes cruel, but he cannot bring himself to interfere when the woman is genuinely interested. It’s not out of any goodwill, or because the thought of Gatrie going home with her doesn’t make his insides twist with distaste and ale, but because he’s afraid that if he lets himself scare off one girl, he won’t be able to stop.

So every time he feels the urge to march over and drag Gatrie out of the tavern and back to camp where there are no women but Titania and Mist, he orders another drink. If Gatrie goes home with the girl, he orders three and burns the rest of the evening out of his memory. 

Gatrie doesn’t usually go home with girls, but every time he does he asks Shinon for permission, making sure that he’s not abandoning Shinon like the good friend that he is, a much better friend than Shinon deserves.

To Shinon it all feels like abandonment, but he gives his blessing anyway because to do anything else would be to acknowledge that he wants. He wants Gatrie away from those women, he wants Gatrie to choose him, he just plain _wants_. 

Occasionally it almost seems like Gatrie wants Shinon to object, but Shinon is sure that’s just the liquor and his imagination, so he pushes the thought aside and sets about ensuring that he wakes up the next day with a splitting headache that leaves no room in his skull for images of Gatrie fucking some woman. 

It may be a dysfunctional routine, but it’s better than anything he’s had before.

 

* * *

 

It all changes when the shadow of Greil’s past catches up to them in the form of a knight dressed all in black, who looks twice as large as Gatrie and five times as fearsome, who strikes down Greil in front of his children and leaves the rest of them alive to deal with the fallout. 

Without a leader, everyone gravitates towards Ike and Mist, except Shinon, who slinks off to grieve alone, and Gatrie, who follows him so he doesn’t have to.

Gatrie follows Shinon into his tent uninvited, finds Shinon sitting on his cot, head in his hands and eyes wet. 

Gatrie hesitates in the doorway. “I don’t know what to say, but I thought you might not want to be alone.”

Shinon does want to be alone, but he also wants Gatrie because he always wants Gatrie, wants his attention and his companionship and his calm, jovial presence. 

“Then don’t say anything.” Shinon tells him, but motions him in, and they sit together in silence, Gatrie’s arm around Shinon’s shoulders as Shinon cries silently and Gatrie pretends that he is not weeping too.

The shock and exhaustion of grief carry them all through the night, but in the morning everyone has begun to worry about the future and who will lead them through it. Greil had been a leader and more than that, and without him the Greil Mercenaries lacked direction. 

Everyone other than Mist, who is still asleep, gathers to discuss the situation and it becomes clear that the consensus is that Ike should lead in his father’s stead.

“Ike has been training his whole life to one day take over the Greil Mercenaries,” Titania says, infuriatingly logical. “That day has come much earlier than any of us expected or hoped, but I trust Ike and will follow him as I did Greil.”

Ike, for his part, looks shell-shocked but determined. It’s impressive for a 17-year-old who has just become an orphan, but Shinon is not impressed. 

“I know I am not my father, but I will do my best.” Ike says, solemnly.

“We’re all here to help you with whatever you need.” Oscar reassures him, Boyd nodding in agreement. Soren says nothing, but remains by Ike’s side, closer than a shadow. Shinon has often wondered what happened that made Soren look like he would follow Ike over a cliff into a volcano without batting an eye. 

“Look, I hate to be the buzzkill here, but the kid’s seventeen! Do you expect me to be a part of a mercenary group led by a _child_?” Shinon knows that maybe keeping his mouth shut would be best, but he’s never liked Ike.

It’s not Ike’s fault that he had a father who loved and supported him, that he knew what it was like to grow up in a loving household with a mother who probably hugged him often. It’s not Ike’s fault, but it’s also not Shinon’s fault that he sees Ike and cannot help but burn with jealousy and resentment. He could tolerate Ike as the boss’s kid, but Ike as the boss is just unthinkable. 

“Shinon...” Titania’s voice is a clear warning.

“No offense to Ike, but Shinon is right. Ike doesn’t have much experience in battle, let alone leading the group. Maybe we should talk about that a little?” Gatrie chimes in, always the peacemaker.

“I don’t plan on taking over everything, and I’ll have Titania to help m-” 

“You don’t have to agree with that asshole just because you’re drinking buddies, Gatrie!” Boyd cuts off Ike, temper almost as hot as Shinon’s and much less under control. 

The meeting spirals out of control as Gatrie tries to reply as Ike tries to repeat himself and Oscar brings out the voice he uses when he’s acting like a parent with rowdy children. The noise wakes Mist, who stumbles out of her tent, face still red from crying just as Shinon raises his voice to declare, “Look, I don’t want to cause trouble. Ike can be the leader, but I’ll be leaving.”

It’s sudden, but it makes sense. Shinon stayed with the Greil Mercenaries because they were the _Greil_  Mercenaries. He may be an asshole, but he’s a loyal asshole and Greil had earned his respect and loyalty a thousand times over; to expect him to give the same to Ike just for being born Greil’s son was beyond laughable. 

Shinon doesn’t have many things, so he’s almost done packing his stuff when Gatrie appears.

“Hey, wait for me to pack. I’m coming with you.”

“Why?” Shinon asks flatly, energy already drained for the day even though it’s barely noon.

“Because you’re right. Ike’s a good kid, but he’s not ready to lead a mercenary group. Besides, someone has to make sure you don’t get ambushed with nothing but a bow to defend yourself.”

Shinon wants to protest that he can defend himself perfectly well with only a bow, but it doesn’t seem important and he can’t muster up the energy to pretend that having Gatrie coming with him doesn’t fill his whole body with relief and make him feel like he can breathe again.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I claimed that this was going to be a two-shot and that I was going to have the completed thing posted by the end of last weekend. I lied on both counts and I apologize.
> 
> I do actually have the end written for this, I just have to write from this point to the part that I have written, and that is taking a bit more time than I anticipated, and between school and work, time is in short supply in my life. I am still committed to finishing this fic, but it might take a wee bit longer than anticipated. I apologize that not much happens in this chapter, but I decided to sacrifice ideal pacing for just posting something so I don't let myself forget about finishing the fic, like I have done with a few fics in the past. 
> 
> Regardless, a huge huge thank you to everyone who has left comments or kudos, I didn't know if anyone else cared much about Tellius fic or Shinon/Gatrie and I am incredibly encouraged by each and every kudos and comment!

As it turns out, throwing a hissy fit and storming out on your mercenary company isn’t really the best career move for a mercenary. Even with Gatrie, work is a lot harder to find than they’d like, and Shinon realizes that he definitely took for granted the fact that in addition to their pay, Greil provided them with food, shelter, and protection. 

Within a few weeks, Shinon and Gatrie have resorted to sharing a single tent and camping wherever the local townspeople won’t yell and chase them off their property, having sold the second tent they brought with them in order to pay for a few meals. Even worse, funds being tight forces Shinon to cut back on his drinking, and he’s even more irritable and edgy than usual.

It’s a good thing Shinon didn’t choose to become a mercenary for the glamorous lifestyle. If he had, he’d have been sorely disappointed that the mercenary lifestyle involved sitting in a cramped tent, sharing sips of cheap liquor with Gatrie as they discussed how they hoped to find a river soon because really, they’ve both started to smell a little too ripe.

But even worse than the lack of money, booze, and personal space is the guilt. Shinon doesn’t usually admit that he was wrong, at least to other people, but he begins to suspect that leaving the Greil Mercenaries had been, to put it mildly, an incredibly stupid move. 

Sure, maybe he wasn’t the most popular person among the Greil Mercenaries, and maybe most of them got on his nerves the vast majority of the time, but they were the closest thing he’d ever had to a family, and he’d run out on them. 

He tried to tell himself that they’d be better off without him, but Shinon had never been a particularly good liar (except when it came to his own feelings and pretending that he didn’t have them). 

Leaving in protest over Ike’s leadership might shake Ike’s confidence when what the group really needed was a firm leader. Rhys would worry that Shinon would go get himself killed somehow, and Oscar would tell him that Shinon could take care of himself while secretly thinking the exact same thing as Rhys.

And Mist...fuck, he’d probably made Mist cry, if only because she had a particular fondness for Gatrie and a heart that was too soft for mercenary work. 

There was a good chance that Titania and Boyd were angry enough at him that they were glad that he was gone, but that was ok. He’d never really gotten along with them at the best of times.

But the worst was thinking about what his leaving had done to Rolf. Rolf, who had ignored Boyd’s warnings that Shinon was a mean old man and insisted on calling him “Uncle Shinon.” Rolf, who wanted to be an archer, “Just like you, Uncle Shinon!” Rolf, who had followed him around, training bow in hand, begging Shinon to train him. Who hadn’t given up even when Shinon said no one, two, many times, just took to shooting blunt arrows at whatever happened to be near Shinon until Shinon had grown so annoyed by Rolf’s sloppy form and stance that he’d agreed to train him on the condition that Rolf never speak of it to anyone, ever.

Only three days before Greil’s death, Shinon had given Rolf a new bow, one that he’d made himself, and promised that he’d show Rolf how to use it soon since it was stiffer than the bows he was used to. Rolf’s face had lit up and Shinon had tried to suppress the comparison to himself as a child; going down that road either led to jealousy that Rolf may make it through childhood with his innocence and joy intact, or worry that he wouldn’t.

Shinon had broken his promise, and he felt guilty because he’d broken his promise to one of the few people who still believed that he would keep it. 

This, he thought, was one of the major downsides of his current situation. Strapped for cash as they were, they didn’t have any alcohol on hand, and Shinon could not justify spending what little money they had on a visit to a tavern to drink until he forgot that he abandoned Rolf.

Instead, he hoped that it wouldn’t take long for Rolf to forget him.

 

 

Things aren’t great, but they aren’t as bad as they could be. They bounce around, taking whatever jobs they can find and trying not to think about the morality of said jobs. They don’t talk about the Greil Mercenaries. That is, every time Gatrie tries to bring up the Greil Mercenaries, Shinon immediately changes the subject to the weather, Gatrie’s childhood, or some attractive woman or another that they’d run across in their travels. 

They live on the road and sleep in a shared tent, and every so often Shinon wonders if he can sense just a hint of sexual tension or if it’s just his imagination trying to trick him into hoping. It’s probably the most likely explanation, but he can’t shake the occasional feeling of eyes on him when he takes down his hair at night before going to sleep. 

“Why do you keep your hair so long?” Gatrie asks him one day, right before they head off to dispatch some bandits who have been raiding the liquor and maidens of a local town through less than scrupulous methods. “Isn’t it dangerous if you hair got in your eyes while we’re in battle? Or if an enemy got ahold of it?”

“If my hair is the reason that I die in battle.” Shinon replies, dismissively. “Then I deserve whatever death I get it.”

“Besides,” He adds, casual arrogance seeping into his voice. “This hairstyle suits me.”

Gatrie studies him for a moment, eyes flicking up and down to take in the full expanse of Shinon’s hair.

“It does suit you.” He concludes, and Shinon hopes that he’s not blushing.

They set off to kill some bandits before the moment can turn into anything more dangerously emotional. Shinon’s hair does get in his eyes, but the bandits are slow enough that he could hit them with his eyes closed, and their weapons are menacing enough to scare villagers, but much too weak to dent Gatrie’s armor. It’s an easy job, and Shinon is glad that he’s well past worrying about the morality of killing for money.

Besides, the job paid well, well enough that they decide to spend the night in town and treat themselves to an evening at the local tavern.Gatrie is excited to check out the local ladies, and Shinon is excited to check out the local booze, and they’re both in relatively high spirits when they set out. 

Then Gatrie gets rejected and Shinon gets drunk, and the high spirits all go out the window. 

“Why doesn’t she want me?” Gatrie whines, sloppy drunk and leaning heavily on Shinon’s shoulder.

“Maybe because you smell like the inside of a keg of ale.” Shinon tries and fails to squirm away, uncomfortable with the physical contact for all kinds of reasons.

“Am I not handsome?” Gatrie ignores him, choosing instead to shove his face close to Shinon’s in an attempt to demonstrate just how handsome he is. “Aren’t I charming?”

Shinon is much too drunk to deal with this, especially since his depth perception has begun to play tricks on him.

“And I’m very, very strong,” Gatrie continues, flexing his bicep in Shinon’s face. “Here, feel it! Rock hard muscles, all over my body. What lady wouldn’t want that?”

“Maybe because your head is just as hard.” It’s not the best insult he’s ever come up with, but he’s drunk and trying to keep Gatrie’s “rock hard” bicep from whacking him in the nose, so it’s a little hard to think all that quickly.

“Shinon.” Gatrie wheedles, pretending as if Shinon’s comment actually cut deep. “Do you think I’m handsome?”

“Yes, sure, whatever.” Gatrie pouts, and Shinon looks away. “You’re very handsome.”

“Am I charming?” 

“When you’re not drinking, you’re tolerably pleasant.” Shinon says, trying to ignore the fact that Gatrie has once again invaded his personal space.

“And my muscles, don’t you think that they’re attractive?”

Shinon gulps, because he’ll never admit it, but he’s seen most of the muscles that are hidden between Gatrie’s armor, and they are...impressive, to say the least.

“Yes” He replies, finding that his voice has somehow dropped to a whisper. “If you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Are you-” _into that sort of thing_? Shinon only clearly hears the beginning of Gatrie’s question and then someone breaks a glass and he jumps, startled and distracted.

He suddenly realizes that Gatrie’s hand has been on his arm for several minutes now, warm and heavy. And that for being drunk enough to be clingy and whiny, Gatrie’s eyes are surprisingly lucid. And pretty. Gatrie has very pretty eyes, but Shinon is only drunk enough to admit that to himself and not yet drunk enough to admit that to Gatrie. 

Shinon gets distracted thinking about how Gatrie’s eyes are very blue, because of course they are, he’s blonde and muscular and farm-grown so of course he has blue eyes and of course they sparkle because whoever made Gatrie either hates Shinon or loves him.

Shinon’s mind drifts, from trying to pinpoint the color of Gatrie’s eyes to admiring the slope of his nose to idly wondering how long it’s been since Gatrie’s properly shaved because he has a bit of stubble going on, a fact that Shinon notices only because somehow along the way they’ve ended up kissing and Shinon can feel Gatrie’s stubble against his chin.

Shinon doesn’t know who started the kissing, only that it must have seemed natural in the way that things seem natural when you’re drunk enough to feel like you’re halfway in a dream. A dream which is shattered by the realization that _he_   _is kissing Gatrie._

Shinon’s drunk mind sobers up enough to process the facts. He’s kissing Gatrie. The kissing is almost certainly his fault because he is the one with the secret yearning that he’s never been able to kick. Gatrie is either confused and disgusted or else drunk enough that the confusion and disgust will kick in the next morning, and either way Shinon has absolutely ruined everything.

So he does the only thing that seems to make sense at the time. He stops kissing Gatrie, shoves him away, and bolts.

By the time he reaches the room that they’d rented for the night, his brain has stopped working except on the most primal level. His stomach is rolling from running upstairs with a stomach still overfull of liquor, and the sound of his footsteps matches the pounding in his head, admonishing him.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Get. Out. Get. Out.

Collecting his stuff is a big of a challenge, and he bangs his toe and his elbow in the process, but the need to be gone before Gatrie gets a chance to catch up with him helps get out the door quickly.

He takes his clothes and his bow, and leaves almost everything else. Gatrie needs the food, the tent, the money; Shinon is a coward, but he’s not a thief. Gatrie will need the money they have left over, and Shinon...will make do somehow.

Taking at least a little money starts to sound like a good idea in retrospect about 10 blocks away from the hotel, when Shinon realizes it’s the middle of the night and he’s still a long way from sobering up with no money to rent a room and no tent to pitch in lieu of one. But going back to the hotel where Gatrie would be is just _not an option_ , for reasons that Shinon feels very strongly but cannot articulate. 

After wandering aimlessly for several more minutes, Shinon turns into an alleyway he swears he passed five minutes ago and sits down, leaning against the wall and curled in on himself. 

_Passing out in an alley, just like old times._  He thinks, trying and failing to in down the thought as it drifts across his mind just before he falls asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you thank you thank you to every single person who has read this and left kudos or a comment. I am still a little shy about fanfic writing since it's been a while since I've done it on a regular basis, and any kind of encouragement is appreciated more than y'all know <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shinon runs away from all of his problems, but as problems have a way of doing, they all catch up to him eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize at the beginning because there is very little Gatrie in this chapter. This is a Shinon/Gatrie story, but it's also a very Shinon-centric story, and this bit is very Shinon-centric. I thought about trying to condense it to just get to the end (which I already have written), but then I got stuck thinking about Shinon and Rolf and this chapter and well...it just happened.
> 
> But at least there's progress, right?
> 
> If any of this dialogue sounds familiar, it's because it's taken almost directly from the script of Ch 18: Crimea Marches (which is, by the way, one of many great chapters from the Tellius games).

 

 

Shinon wakes up the next morning, hair tangled, breath stale, and head pounding.

And more importantly, he wakes up in an alleyway, alone.

It’s been a long time since he’s been able to consistently drink enough to forget what happens while he’s drunk, so the previous night bursts behind his eyes in full technicolor.

“Shit.” Shinon curses as he flings an arm over his eyes, trying to pretend for just five more minutes that things are ok.

He only makes it two minutes before getting restless, so he mentally squares his shoulder and pushes himself up.

“Well, this has got to be a new record for rock bottom.” He mumbles to himself, as he sets off, with no idea where he’s going. 

 

* * *

 

 

Looking for work as a pair of guildless mercenaries is hard enough, but it’s nothing compared to looking for work as a single guildless mercenary who just happens to have no money, no possessions, and a terrible tendency to alienate the people around him.

Still, after dragging himself from tavern to tavern and loitering in the hopes of getting a lead on a job, he finally finds someone who needs hands quickly, and doesn’t look twice at the fact that Shinon is a mess. The pay is terrible, and the bow they give him is worthless compared to what he’s used to, but it gives him something to do.

It turns out that he’s basically getting paid to get involved in a turf war between two groups of small-time bandits. It’s exactly the kind of job he would have passed over when traveling with Gatrie, because it’s messy and dangerous and not all that moral, but one of Shinon’s strengths and weaknesses is his lax moral standards. Morals don’t pay for a room and a pint of ale, but roughing it with bandits pays for at least a bed, and they give him disgusting home-brewed mead for free after it becomes clear that he’s the most talented of the bunch.

They run the other group of bandits off fairly quickly, but the fact that Shinon is a tier above the rest of the bandits ensures that he gets another job. And another, and another, and eventually he’s able to jump from bandits to slightly more professional mercenary groups. Their morals are just as loose as bandits, but they dress better and their booze is much more palatable.

The jobs start getting better paid too, and Shinon is able to buy a bow that’s at least slightly better. More importantly, he’s able to buy strong enough alcohol to distract him from his occasional pangs of loneliness, to banish his visions: of Gatrie, mostly, but also of Greil, of Rhys and Titania, even of little Rolf.

But those visions are useless, and he chases them away with alcohol while also chasing away anyone who might have thought to befriend him.

 

* * *

 

 

Eventually his jobs shift from acting as extra manpower for bandit turf wars to things that seem a little bigger, more well-funded, and more politically motivated. Shinon’s policy is that as long as he’s getting paid, he doesn’t ask questions, but he can’t help but wonder idly what exactly is happening to Tellius.

The strangest is when he gets hired by a crew that is half Daein soldiers and half Ravens. It’s something that he would have never guessed he’d see, Daein and Kilvas working together, especially since the average citizen of Daein tended to hate laguz as much as Shinon did, or more.

Still, who he was working with and why fell under the “Don’t ask questions as long as you get paid” category, even if it involved laguz. At the very least they were birds, and Shinon felt a little bit of comfort knowing that if it came down to him against the ravens, the odds were in his favor as long as he could get the first shot off.

Or at least that’s what he thought before seeing them in action. Sure, if he got the first shot off, he could take most of them down, but if they got to him first, he was toast. In a one-on-one battle, the odds would be about even, depending on who was faster. Unfortunately, of all the laguz, the birds were some of the fastest.

_If Gatrie were still here, there’d be no question of who would win._

The thought pops uninvited into his head, and he tries to shoo it away with a twinge of annoyance. It was frustrating enough already that he missed the big oaf, and he didn’t need to be reminded that from a purely strategic standpoint, it was better to have Gatrie around than not.

Luckily, the battle started, and as soon as the first enemy moved into range, Shinon shifted into the altered headspace that he only found during a battle, with all other irrelevant thoughts-of laguz, of feelings, of Gatie-drifting easily away.

Was it ironic to feel most at peace in the middle of war? Probably, but that was just another irrelevant thought that didn’t last long, quickly subsumed by the rhythmic sequence of _aim, pull, fire, reload, aim..._

Right in the midst of reloading his bow, Shinon’s focus became momentarily and violently shaken when he saw a familiar looking figure coming into view, a little behind the stumbling soldier who he had just clipped with his arrow.

_Just like Ike, charging into battle first, with no thought of how fucked his little band would be if he was cut down._

The thought, and the accompanying spike of disdain were so automatic that it took Shinon’s mind a second to pause and catch on.

_Wait, Ike?  
_

_Goddess damnit.  
_

It made sense, in a karmic way. He’d abandoned Ike’s mercenaries, and run away from Gatrie, and now at least one of the people he’d left was coming back to get him.

It made sense logically too. If the continent was really getting embroiled in a proper war, Ike was just stupid and noble enough to get himself at the center of it.

Practically speaking, nothing changed. Ike was there, but he was on the other side, and well, this is what he’d always idly imagined would happen anyway, wasn’t it? One of them would end up dying, maybe by the other’s hand.

As satisfying as it would be to be the one to put an arrow in the kid, Shinon valued self-preservation over self-satisfaction, and fighting Ike would probably be more skewed in Ike’s favor than Shinon would like to deal with, especially with his concentration already shot to hell.

So when Ike headed away from him, still oblivious to Shinon’s presence on the battlefield, Shinon breathed a sigh of relief

It didn’t last long though, because behind Ike came the rest of the motley crew; almost everyone he recognized, and some people he didn’t. It figured that Ike would keep picking up strays along the way.

But among the unfamiliar faces, Shinon picked out a flash of familiar armor.

_Gatrie._

Gatrie wasn’t supposed to be with them. He’d left the group when Shinon had, following him without question, but now here he was, and the sight struck Shinon dumb, unable to move.

Shinon had known what being a mercenary was about, and had embraced it. With the exception of a few of the younger members, he had considered the possibility that he would have to fight against every one of his comrades, and had found that if it came down to it, he would have very little trouble choosing his life over any of theirs.

Except Gatrie. No matter how hard he had though, he had never truly considered that he and Gatrie might someday be on opposite sides. It was simply inconceivable, as much of a violation of the way the world worked as a river flowing upstream.

Luckily, Gatrie didn’t appear to see Shinon, and for the first time, Shinon thanked the goddess for the fact that Gatrie’s armor severely limited his peripheral vision.

Unluckily, as he was standing there gaping, the little cluster of healers and archers at the back seem to have noticed him, and before he knew it two broke away from the group and made a beeline straight for him. A redhaired man in priest’s robes-Rhys, Shinon deduced-tried to call them back. The girl, who was almost certainly Mist, hesitated for a moment before eventually returning when Shinon raised his bow in her direction, but the boy ignored his calls and continued heading towards Shinon.

Shinon didn’t need to wait until he came closer to know that it had to be Rolf.

“Shinon?” The boy called out in disbelief, completely oblivious to the fact that yelling on a battlefield when you’ve just broken away from the main body of your allies is an incredibly stupid thing to do.

“Rolf...” Shinon began, a lecture automatically forming in his head.

“Shinon!” Rolf yelled, cutting him off as he reached Shinon. “It really is you!”

The lecture died behind Shinon’s lips at the genuine happiness in Rolf’s voice.

“Look at you. You’ve grown so much.” Shinon found himself saying, noting that Rolf had grown a few inches in the months that he’d left. “You actually look like an archer.”

“Really?” Rolf says, as bashful and delighted as he always was at receiving a compliment from Shinon.

“ You always did have what it takes.” Shinon tells him. “It's just like I told you--you train the right way, and you'll surpass both your brothers.”

_Not that your brothers set a particularly high bar._ He add silently.

“I had a good teacher.” Rolf says, still beaming.

“Yeah, you did.” Shinon says, unable to suppress a little smile. He never planned on teaching anyone, but Rolf had a raw talent that deserved to be nurtured, and more importantly, an enthusiasm that wore even Shinon down eventually.

“You haven’t told anyone else about that, have you?” Shinon adds. Just because Rolf’s childish joy turned him into a little bit of a sap didn’t mean he was ok with anyone else knowing about it.

“Nope. Never said a word.” Rolf shakes his head, earnestly. “I keep my promises.”

“Good man.”

Rolf laughs, caught off-guard at being addressed as a man, before his delight changes to worry. “Um...Shinon?”

“What?”

“Are you...” Rolf hesitates. “With the enemy?”

Shinon answers quickly, because it’s the only way he can get it out without revealing any of the pesky emotions he feels poking at him. “Yep.”

Rolf’s face falls, a complete contrast to his delight at first seeing Shinon, and Shinon sees his lip start to tremble.

“Stop that.” Shinon tells him. “I told you that things like this happen.” Did you forget?”

“But...it’s not...” Rolf is full-on blubbering on the battlefield now, and Shinon is torn between annoyance and discomfort. “It’s...not...fair...”

If he keeps carrying on like this, the kid’s going to get both of them killed, so Shinon hardens his voice to the one that makes the nice girls that Gatrie likes glare at him.

“Ready your bow. It's time for the pupil to face his master.”

Rolf looks at him, uncomprehending.

“I mean it kid.” Shinon raises his bow for emphasis, but doesn’t truly draw it yet. “You better fight me or get out of here, and you have about ten seconds to choose.”

Rolf looks at Shinon, then looks at his own bow, and finally heads back towards the army. He glances back at Shinon every few seconds as if expecting to be shot in the back, but he doesn’t need to worry. Rolf may very well die today, but Shinon would rather not be the one to deal the blow.

The battle is a hard one for both sides, and although most of Ike’s company must know that he’s here by now, for the most part he’s shooting at people he doesn’t know.

But then eventually, Ike comes into view.

Shinon gets off two arrows before Ike gets close enough to counterattack, but he’s been off the whole battle, and neither of them are lethal blows. Although, Shinon notes with vindictive pleasure, they force Ike to start favoring his left leg.

Shinon’s played this battle out in his head dozens of times, and he knows that in close quarters Ike always wins. Ike’s probably going to win this time, if it’s a fair fight.

“Look, it’s little Ike!” Shinon calls, taunting. The only way he’s going to win is by throwing Ike off his game, and the two arrows helped, but it can’t hurt to try to shake him mentally too.

The best method would be to put an arrow or two in Soren, but unfortunately, for once Soren is not trailing behind Ike like a shadow.

“I always knew it would come to this, Ike.” Shinon says as Ike comes into range, drawing another arrow as he speaks.

“Shinon...” Ike says, and Shinon sees that despite everything, Ike would like to forgive him, and the fact fills him with anger.

“Watch yourself!” He snaps, and fires, this time hitting Ike in the arm.

The pain snaps Ike out of whatever sappy fantasy he had of convincing Shinon to join Ike’s little fanclub mercenary band, and he charges.

Shinon does his best, but he’s not good in close quarters, and it’s over embarrassingly quickly as Ike, who at the very least is bleeding from several arrow wounds, lands a solid blow on Shinon’s left side that brings him to the ground.

“Curses...” Shinon grits out, instinctively clutching at the wound.

“Don’t move.” Ike is standing over him, but he doesn’t deliver the final blow. “You’ll tear the wound wide open.”

“What...” Shinon grunts. “Are you planning? Do it now. Finish me.”

Ike says nothing, just looks at him in...contemplation? Pity? Disgust?

“Ha,” Shinon barks out a laugh, which sends a wave of pain through his side. “Idiot...”

Shinon isn’t sure what happens after that, because he starts to drift in and out of consciousness, and in his half-conscious state, he registers that Ike is no longer there.

His thoughts are drifting in and out of coherence as well, half-formed thoughts meshing with wordless pain and slivers of emotions he couldn’t identify if he tried.

_...stupid...stupid way to live...stupider way to die..._

_...fuckup. just like..._

_...hope Rolf...didn’t..._

_...at least...wasn’t...Gatrie..._

Shinon comes completely back to consciousness some time later, surprised to see Rhys and Ike standing over him rather than...whatever might happen to good-for-nothing snipers who get themselves killed in battle.

“Shinon.” Ike starts.

“Ha!” Shinon cuts him off, still half-delirious. “I can't believe that the one who defeats me is little lord Ikie. Looks like I've lost my edge. I'm ready, boy. Go on. Finish what you started.”

Rhys looks at Ike, who nods, signalling that Rhys can leave, taking what looks like a mend staff and an empty vulnerary with him.

Ike turns back to Shinon. “Come back to the company.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You've never liked me. As far back as I can remember, you have never liked me.” Ike says, and it’s not a question, just a fact.

"That’s right.” Shinon confirms, because he’s already almost dead, so there’s no harm in digging his own grave when he’s already lying in it. “Still don’t.”

 

 

“You called me a weakling.” Ike continues. “Said I was nothing without the help of my father. That's what you said, right? That's why you hated me.”

Honestly, at this point Shinon doesn’t even remember why he started to hate Ike, but the fact that Ike seems to want his approval even now isn’t helping his case. Gatrie and Rolf aside, Shinon finds earnest people distasteful.

“Sounds like me.” Shinon hedges, because it’s a lot easier to say than _I was half-way in love with your father and I resented you for having his love and living when he died and not being the failure that I wanted you to be.  
_

"Don't you get it?” Ike says, looking at Shinon like he’s stupid. “I just beat you. So your reasons don't hold water anymore, do they?”

Shinon’s reasons never really held water, but Ike doesn’t need to know that.

“Pah! It's enough you beat me, now you gotta talk me to death?”

Ike sighs. “I'll say it once more. Come back to the company. I acknowledge your abilities. As commander, I want you with us.”

Honestly, it’s starting to look like a tempting prospect, especially considering the other choice is bleeding to death on the battlefield.

Well, maybe not quite bleeding to death, because it seems like Rhys might have healed the worst of his wounds. But still, it would involve laying around with corpses and then starting again from scratch as a lone mercenary, and the Greil Mercenaries (or had they officially become the Ike Mercenaries by this point?) had tents and food and probably booze, and even though most of them surely hated his guts, at least Gatrie and Rolf would probably forgive him. Eventually.

_“_ Let's have another go around.” Shinon says, wincing as he pushes himself to his feet. “I win, and I'm commander. Agreed?”

Ike looks at him, incredulous.

“Agreed?” Shinon repeats. Of course he’s going to lose, and he wouldn’t even want to be commander if there were a chance of it. But he’ll be damned if he admits that he’s crawling back to the Ike Fan Club Mercenaries with his tail between his legs, so he’s got to put up at least a token fight.

Finally Ike gets with the program, nodding. “I win, and you fall in line. Agreed?”

Shinon nods. He has no intention of docilely ‘falling in line,’ but at the very least he won’t storm off or try to kill Ike again, and that’s pretty much what Ike wants anyway.

“Don’t worry.” Shinon says, cocky to the last. “I’ll make it quick.”

Shinon does make it quick, landing few token arrows on Ike’s armor and then going down immediately as soon as Ike’s sword makes contact with his armor. Sure, Shinon hates losing, but he hates flesh wounds even more.

“I yield.” Shinon holds his hands up, and Ike takes one of them, pulling him to his feet.

“Welcome back.” Ike says, and he seems to mean it.

“Yeah yeah.” Shinon says. “Now, where can I find the booze?”

 

* * *

 

 

Coming back to the Greil Mercenaries (turns out they hadn’t changed the name to Ike’s Massive Fucking Fanclub. Yet.) was not the most pleasant experience Shinon had ever had. But that was to be expected, especially considering he’d basically stormed out in a hissy fit and taken their best knight with him.

Actually, it was refreshing how little had changed. He still didn’t like most of the people there, and they still didn’t like him. Just like it was supposed to be.

Some people expressed happiness at his return, and some of them, like Titania and Rhys, actually meant it. Rolf started crying again and despite his best efforts, Shinon couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. Being a dick to adults was one thing, but the kid was another.

“Hey,” Shinon told him, patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. “I’m back now kid, quit crying.”

Rolf just sniffled harder and, to Shinon’s surprise, hugged him.

“Hey now, Rolf.” Shinon said, unsure what exactly was happening but uncomfortable with it nonetheless. “Hey, it’s ok.”

When nothing appeared to be working, Shinon leaned down and hissed in Rolf’s ear. “Quite crying and let go of me and I’ll make you a new bow.”

Immediately, Rolf jumped off of him and smiled. “Thank you Uncle Shinon!”

“Yeah yeah, now scram. You don’t want to be hanging around bad influences like me.”

Rolf headed back towards his brothers’ tent, still smiling.

“And don’t call me Uncle!” Shinon called after him.

 

Some people were not quite as happy to see him again, like Boyd, who pulled a face as soon as he saw Shinon walk into camp. Or Soren, who seemed personally offended that Ike had let Shinon back into the fold.

“Thought you got rid of me, did you?” Shinon taunted after being glared at by Soren. Soren glaring was not a rare occurrence, but neither was Shinon being needlessly rude, and picking at Soren was a habit that had been suppressed for far too long.

"I had hoped so.” Soren responded, icily. “But I suppose Ike knows best.”

“Ike knows best.” Shinon mimicked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

 

Shinon had expected the reunion with Gatrie but be the hardest given the circumstances of their parting. He had even steeled himself to try to attempt an apology, although he probably wouldn’t be able to actually explain what exactly he was apologizing for.

As it turned out, he hadn’t needed to worry, because as soon as he sees Shinon, Gatrie pulls him into a tight hug.

“You’re back.” Gatrie says, sounding like he still can’t dare to believe it. “Thank the goddess.”

“You’re not mad?” Shinon asks, confused.

“I was mad.” Gatrie says. “I was furious, and sad, and then mad again. But I got over that while you were gone. Now I’m just glad that you’re back.”

Gatrie held Shinon at arms length, looking him up and down as if to make sure that he was all in one piece, eyes catching on the bandages covering the wounds Ike had inflicted on him during the last battle. Shinon, suddenly uncomfortable under the scrutiny, batted Gatrie’s hands away.

Gatrie, seemingly unflappable as always, just laughed giddily and pulled him into another embrace.

“Just...don’t do it again.” Gatrie says quietly, the vibrations of his voice seeming to echo in Shinon’s chest. “If you disappear again, I will be mad. And I won’t get over it.”

“I won’t.” Shinon accidentally promises, overwhelmed by the fact that he’s suddenly surrounded by Gatrie’s scent, and by the realization that the smell he always associated with the Greil Mercenaries, with the closest thing to family and home he’s ever had, was actually the smell of Gatrie.

Well, when he was with the Greil Mercenaries, Gatrie was almost always by his side, so it was reasonable that he would get the smell of home and the smell of Gatrie a little mixed up sometimes.

Or perhaps they weren’t two different things at all. But that was a thought Shinon was definitely not ready to examine yet.

Just like that, things returned to normal, or as normal as things could be with the fact that they had in fact kissed hanging in the air between them, conspicuously ignored by both parties involved.

But it was fine, really. Sure, there was a war going, and Shinon was on, if not the right side, at least on the side that was comfortable and familiar, with Gatrie beside him again. For now, it was enough.

It was enough, because it had to be. Shinon did not deserve even this much, and he did not dare ask for more, even in the privacy of his own head, because people like Shinon rarely get what they deserve, and even more rarely get what they want. So it was enough.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read/commented/kudos'ed/etc this fic. The fact that people like it, even though it's a bit of a rarer pair/fandom has really been the reason that I am determined to finish this. Like I said, I still have the end of this (and I reworked it so it's not quite as painfully awkward as the first draft was), but I still have to get there. But at least now, I have a chunk of that process done with this chapter, and I have an idea of where to go. So thank you for your patience, and please, bear with me for a little longer while I try to get this done for real!
> 
> As always, feel free to come talk to me over @legault on tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this all in a fit of inspiration (and by inspiration, I mean that I was feeling angsty and stressed, projected those feelings onto fictional characters, somehow got to thinking about Shinon/Gatrie, and wrote ~4000 words before I started to fall asleep on my laptop), so there may very well be some typos or other mistakes. If you catch any, please let me know!
> 
> As always, I appreciate any and all comments, and if you want to talk to me about Fire Emblem (or anything else), you can talk to me on tumblr @legault or @yuroshka.


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